


Restless

by HardiganCaptain



Category: Bronson [2008]
Genre: Blood!Kink, F/M, Violence!Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-23
Updated: 2013-04-23
Packaged: 2017-12-09 07:44:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/771750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HardiganCaptain/pseuds/HardiganCaptain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been too long since Charlie's had a good brawl and it's made him ansty</p>
            </blockquote>





	Restless

He’s been getting more and more restless for over a month now, pacing the house in a predatory fashion that held you in place fascinated. His friend Paul hadn’t called, no new fights, not even a low and dirty brawl in an abandoned barn. Charlie was losing what little mind he had left.

“How about we go out for a drink?”

“Not thirsty, pet, think I’ll just-” he doesn’t finish the sentence, turning to continue pacing.

You’d had to clear the furniture out of his path, he didn’t walk around it but over it and after the third heavy foot on the coffee table you were worried it was going to break. Straddling the back of the couch you watch him, his lips pressed together beneath his mustache, his upper arms and shoulders tense as his body threatened to boil over with suppressed violence.

“There’s always someone who needs a beat down, I’m sure if-”

“And watch you cry when they slap and tag me, hear you all gentle pleadin and beggin when I’m sittin in a cell? No, thank you, love.”

Surprised your leg stops swinging behind the couch, eyes blinking rapidly, you didn’t know that he’d heard you the last few times you’d had to pay his bail. Hopping off the couch you move to stand in his path, leaving him time to either step around you or stop. His fingers twitch on his thighs, his eyes still staring straight ahead though he does stop.

“How about I find you a couple of rough and readies?”

“Where you gonna find people like that, those sort don’t swim in your pool. Costs a pretty pound to set up these kind of fights won’t have you dippin into your savings.”

The gruff shoot down makes you grin, your palms lightly skimming over his chest to his shoulders. When he doesn’t move away you move your arms around his shoulders and press a kiss to his cheek. This close, his chest against yours, you can feel the rapid beating of his heart despite the easy breaths he’s taking. Miserable is what it his, his upper body twitching with the need to start swinging at someone, something doesn’t work, something doesn’t bleed and cry out when you hit it. His arms around you are almost too tight, your sides aching.

“They’re my savings and I’ll do what I want with it.”

Before he has a chance to raise another argument the phone rings, the shrill tone making you jump and turn your head. Apparently something so simple as letting you go to answer the phone eludes him as he uses an arm around your waist to pick you up and carries you across the room.

“Charlie! Put me down!”

“Answer the phone, there’s a dear, hurry up fore it stops ringing.” there’s a glimmer of something in his voice you hadn’t heard in weeks, a hint of that almost sing song way he had of speaking while showing off.

“Hullo?” a sharp pain shoots through your skull as his ear crashes against the receiver, rolling your head away you glare at him. “Yes, Paul, he’s here.”

You try to hand him the phone but he’s dropped you to your feet, the suddenness almost making you fall against the end table the phone sits on. The hollow sound of the door slamming shut reaches your ears even as Paul asks for him.

“He’s headed to the club, I’m assuming. That’s where you are ri-” the phone’s yanked out of your hands and slammed back onto the charger, a large hand curling around your wrist and dragging you to the door. “Charlie!”

“You wanted to go out, didn’t you my pet? Well then Charlie’s gonna take you out.”

“I didn’t want to go to one of your-”

Your coat slaps you in the face effectively cutting off your protests, your shoes banging into your toes even as he pulls the coat out of your hands and shakes it out so you can slip your arms into the sleeves. Letting out a soft sound of annoyance you slip it on, shoving your feet into your shoes just in time to be dragged out the door. Despite your protests, highly vocalized on the empty street, the dimpling of his cheeks as he grins is contagious and you find yourself growing excited. He’s never let you come to one of these things before though you’d told him that you’d probably seen much worse, ie Family Reunion four years ago, but he’d been adamant. Paul meets you both at the door raising an eyebrow in your direction, the movement lost on Charlie as he stands perfectly still, his eyes locked on the back door.

“Hullo, Charles. Hello-”

“Well?” his voice is impatient, the fingers still wrapped around your wrist tightening. “We gonna go or are we gonna fuckin go?”

“Impatient, are we?” his lazy drawl makes your skin crawl as his eyes skim over Charlie, resting on the way his hand is clinging to you as though he’s worried you’ll wander off. “Downstairs, love, you know the way.”

You catch flashes of too much skin, your brow furrowing as you look over your shoulder, he’d never said this was a strip club. Scowling at him you try to yank your hand free, planting your feet, only to almost tumble head over feet when he doesn’t stop and drags you along. What you find downstairs is a large empty basement, lit by sickly green and yellow neon, the air heavy with the scent of blood, sweat, and something else. You hear Charlie take a deep breath, turning to stare at him, his eyes closed, his face the calmest you’ve ever seen it. No, not calm, empty.

This time when you move to pull your arm away he lets you, his body rolling smoothly as he moves out to the center of the room, shoulders rotating making the muscles on his back shift. You’re not waiting long when Paul comes down stairs, a halo of smoke surrounding his head, three large men are right on his heels, stopping them at the foot of the stairs he tilts his head in Charlie’s direction before giving them a quick offer to leave. Leaning against the wall you stare at them curiously, which is going to fight Charlie, any of them look like they’d give him a run for his money. Your heart stutters when all three walk towards his back, one already moving in long strides as he raises his fist to swing at Charlie’s lower back.

The snarl that comes out of Charlie’s throat sounds like a jungle cat as the hit connects, his body turning to grab the man’s head and squeezing. From where you’re standing you can just make out his face, his lips pulled back from bared teeth, a low rumbling sound rising from his chest. You shake off Paul’s restraining hand and move closer, the way the blows are flying you’re not sure who’s winning, whether Charlie is holding his own or fallen to the steady rain of bloodied knuckles. Getting slammed into a concrete pillar wasn’t part of your plan, but you’re seeing stars as your head snaps back, a man’s body slamming into yours and stealing your breath. Leaning against it for support you watch as Charlie slams his fist into one of his opponent’s stomach, his whole upper body twisting to put weight behind it, his knee viciously slamming into his face before gripping the back of his shirt and tossing him away. The last man is circling warily, blood trickling into Charlie’s eyes though he does nothing to stop it as they follow the man’s careful movements. Apparently growing tired of waiting he rushes him, moving faster than you thought that much bulk could, his arms up, hands gripping the man’s head and squeezing. The scream is painful to hear, watching the man’s hands claw at Charlie’s, his blunt nails scraping against his forearms.

“Charles! What have I told you, no killing!”

“He’s fine,” a low grunt as the man slams his fist into Charlie’s stomach, “Look at ‘im, still swinging away, very much alive I assure you.”

You’re not sure what happened, you’d blinked but the man is laying at Charlie’s feet moaning softly. Lifting your gaze you meet his and the manic gleam in his eyes holds you even as he slowly walks towards you, hands at his sides fingers splayed. So much blood, streaks of it painting his chest, trickles dripping off his jaw to his shoulders. You can’t help the soft gasp you make as his body presses against yours, pinning you to the pillar, his hands resting on either side of your head.

“Bit of magic there, don’t you think. Three of em meant nothing, eh? Whatcha think, pet?”

“It was brutal.” you reply honestly, hands raising to rest on his chest slipping on the blood and sweat slicking his skin.

“Good, it felt good, y’know? Get all that-” he pauses, brow furrowing as he tries to find the word, “Energy going, rolling through me, felt really good, pet.”

“Happy for you, Charlie.”

His lips slam against yours, hands sliding down to your hips to slide you up the pillar. Thrusting between your legs he grinds against you, a low growl rattling in his chest as he catches your lower lip in his teeth, fingers digging. Your arms slip on his shoulders as you try to wrap them around his neck, fingers grasping at the firm muscle as he forces your hips into a rolling grind. The sweet copper taste of his mouth draws a soft moan from you, his grip shifting down to wrap your legs around his waist. It’s almost like he forgot there were important steps, such as removing clothing. His hips thrusting into yours, slamming your back into the concrete, a soft whine rising from your throat at the building ache that has no right to be there.

“Fuckin clothin.” he snarls blood slick fingers sliding down your stomach as he yanks until the fastening and zipper tear open.

“Charles…” Paul’s voice pulls your mind back to where you are, what you’re doing in front of-

“Charlie, please.”

“I know, pet, I’ve got it, just give me a moment.” his lips are crashing into yours again, his mustache scraping your upper lip, the kiss more like he’s trying to swallow you down.

The vicious yank he gives the uncooperative clothing has the seam riding up, pressing cruelly against your clit and you scream, nails scraping skin from his back.

“You didn’t, oh love, please… You didn’t-”

“Charles!” His head turns slowly, frowning back at Paul as though he didn’t remember that he was there.

“We’re a bit busy, a bit of catch up to play right now…”

“Have the decency to take her upstairs to a private room, mate.”

Your legs don’t support you as he slowly lets you down, his hands sliding your shirt up, his eyes locked on yours as his fingers trail lightly over your skin. Neither of you are going to be getting farther than the stairs if he doesn’t stop staring at you as though he’s going to tear his way through you. Leaning closer you turn your head at the last second to lick the blood and sweat on his cheek, catching the curl of his mustache in your teeth and tugging it. The groan that brushes past your ear makes you grin, rubbing your cheek along his smearing the mess on your skin as well.

“Tease, that’s what you are, pretty little kitten with sharp little claws,” his voice is husky in your ear, pulling your hips to his. “Upstairs?”

You roll your hips against his, lifting your hand from his shoulder to lick your fingers clean with a soft moan. You’re not quite sure what expletive he just used, his pupils are too blown to see against the shadows of his face, pressing a finger to his lower lip you smile sweetly as you smear blood from the split along it.

“Charles!”

“Busy!”

“To Hell with you both, stark raving mad the both of you.” distantly you can hear the door slam shut, the lights going dark a moment after.

A sharp sting of teeth followed by the ticklish sensation of his facial hair on your neck has you squirming, your hands moving to the waist band of your pants and shoving them down. Slick fingers trail over your arm, his mouth sliding to bite your shoulder with a growl. His fingers slide inside, his tattered knuckles scraping as he begins to thrust in and out slowly, straddling your thigh to grind his still constrained erection against your hip. Dragging a harsh cry from your lips as he crooks his fingers to drag them out, your legs give out, his thigh rising to rub back and forth as he kisses you, taking his bloody lip into your mouth you toy with it feeling his breath panted over your cheeks.

You can feel him shifting against you, his forearm pressing against your collarbone as he moves his leg away, frustrated grunts echoing before his hands grip your waist to lift you. Instinctively wrapping your legs around his waist as he moves closer you gasp as he thrusts in, hands slamming you down. Your nails dig into his shoulders, piercing the skin as the muscles shift, dragging your body along the column as he sets the rhythm he wants. You can feel it coiling in your stomach, tensing your thighs on his hips, the slick feel of his bruised, bloody cheek as he misses your lips in the dark instead sinking his teeth into your neck as he pounds into you.

Close, so close, your body is shaking with it, unable to concentrate on keeping your grip on his shoulders you wind your arms around his neck, soft cries falling from your lips against his ear, his name a breathless chant. You can feel bruises forming when he comes, from his fingers pinning you to the column as he grinds into you trying to bury himself deeper. Your scream lodges in your throat as your orgasm rolls through you, your skin burning with it, a low groan rising out of his chest as your body squeezes around him.

“Makes you feel a bit religious, don’t it? All that white light sparkin through your brain.”

“Fuck.”

“Don’t start that crass talk, we’ve got to get up the stairs yet.”


End file.
